


It's Always the Quiet Ones - OLD VERSION

by hrhowling



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, I'm loving the merman Elliott headcanon, Magic-Users, Magical Accidents, Merman!Elliott, Other, Selectively Mute Farmer, monster au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 06:12:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6554158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrhowling/pseuds/hrhowling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>THIS IS BEING REWRITTEN! LOOK FOR ANOTHER FIC OF THE SAME NAME!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> *slams face on the table* I NEED TO STOP WRITING NEW FANFICTIONS!
> 
> Oh well.
> 
> So I was trawling through Tumblr and deviantArt, when I stumbled upon someone's drawings of the Pelican Town residents as monsters. Pretty soon, I was all over the idea, and wrote this. I can't remember where I found the original artwork, but I loved the concept, and quickly started developing it.
> 
> Now, this is going to be a little different from the game; mostly dialogue and the way the world works. The farmhouse already has a kitchen, and there's 12 months to a year. Characters may be a little OOC, but that's probably because I've not played the game yet (hoping to get it for my birthday), and most of what I know is from the game wiki, and let's plays that I've watched. Hopefully, I don't mess this up too badly.
> 
> Also, I'm completely winging this entire thing, so I have no idea what I'll be doing by means of actual plot besides Hannah (the farmer) coming to terms with her new life, and the town's big secret. This might end up being shippy, it might not. If you have ideas for what could happen, then feel free to leave a comment.
> 
> So without further ado; enjoy!

_"_ _…_ _and for my very special grandchild_ _... I_ _want you to have this sealed envelope..."_  

 _It took a moment before I_ _realised_ _who he was talking about. With tiny, trembling hands, I reached out towards my_ _grandpa's bedside and carefully took the letter from him. After_ _staring_ _at it for a few seconds, I fumbled with the shiny purple wax of the seal with unsteady fingers, before a rough, calloused hand stopped me._  

 _"No, no, don't open it yet..." Grandpa instructed; voice firm despite being so wheezy.._ _"H_ _ave patience..."_  

 _I did as I was told, like any good child of five years of age_ _._  

 _"Now, listen close..."_  

 _Grandpa chuckled when he saw my ears actually twitch in anticipation. It was a trick I'd always been able to impress people with, although some of the bigger kids said it was dumb and creepy._  

 _"There will come a day when you feel crushed by the burden of modern life... and your bright spirit will fade before a growing emptiness..."_  

 _My chest already felt heavy with grief... did that count?_  

 _"When that happens, my child, you'll be ready for this gift..." Grandpa continued softly._  

 _I nodded._  

 _"Now, let G_ _randpa rest..."_  

 _He closed his eyes; a smile creasing the corners of his mouth and his chest slowly rising and falling as he took breath by quiet breath_ _. He looked peaceful._  

 _I kept the letter with me every day since then._  

* * *

  _Tap-tap! Tap! Tap-tap-tap!_  

I felt (and probably looked) like a zombie as I sluggishly typed away at my JojaCorp office computer. Just like every day for the last three years since I first got this accursed job. My hours were long and mentally taxing, despite doing nothing that required an actual emotional response. But somehow, copying and pasting and slightly editing the same message onto countless emails in reply to complaints about the company's products not being up to snuff sapped all the life out of me within the first five minutes. 

I felt crushed. 

 _Tap-tap... tap..._  

Realisation stalled the monotonous tapping of my fingers. 

 _"There will come a day when you feel crushed by the burden of modern life... and your bright spirit will fade before a growing emptiness..."_  

Grandpa's words echoed in my mind, as if he was still whispering them to me over my shoulder. The thought sent chills down my spine; through unpleasantness or something else, I was unaware. 

My eyes made their way to the small, rickety drawer beneath my computer. 

"I'm feeling pretty crushed now, Grandpa," I murmured. The first words I'd spoken in months that weren't directed to myself. Well... at least intentionally. I was still technically talking to myself. 

With shaky hands, I reached for the drawer and pulled it open. 

The letter was still there; wax seal gleaming in the dim light of my desk lamp. It was slightly crumpled from years of near constantly being in whatever bag I travelled with, and a little yellow with age, but it was still the same letter I had taken from my grandpa's hands eighteen years ago. Even now, I can remember the way his fingers twitched at the loss of it. 

I took it out; careful not to snag it on anything, and slowly pried away the wax seal. Pulling out the folded piece of paper within, I opened it to reveal the neat print of my Grandpa's handwriting and the message he'd enclosed to me. 

 _Dear Hannah,_  

 _If you're reading this, you must be in dire need of a change._  

 _The same thing happened to me, long ago. I'd lost sight of what mattered most in life... real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong._  

 _I've enclosed the deed to that place... my pride and joy: Moonvale Farm. It's located in Stardew Valley, on the southern coast. It's the perfect place to start your new life._  

 _This was my most precious gift of all, and now i_ _t's_ _yours. I know you'll_ _honour_ _the family name, my child. Good luck._  

 _Love, Grandpa_  

 _P.S. If Lewis is still alive say hi to the old gargoyle for me, will ya?_  

I blinked; staring dumbfounded at the words in front of me. I'd heard Grandpa's voice as I'd read, as if he'd read it out loud to me. But that wasn't the point. The point was all the questions running through my head. Stardew Valley? Moonvale Farm? Deed? Gift?  _I_ inherited _a_ _farm_?! 

The look of utter shock and bewilderment on my face quickly morphed into an ecstatic, open-mouthed grin as hazy memories of dirt caking my hands, the warm, pungent breath of an old horse puffing into my face, and the soft, fuzzy feathers of chicks. Laughter as I played with other children, talked the ears off of a greying man who was friends with my grandpa, and chugged down a glass of fresh, cold milk. 

And a bright burst of light. What was that? Fireworks? A music show? I can't remember... 

Closing my mouth, I placed the letter to the side, put the nostalgia next to it, opened up a Word document, and tapped out a brief letter of resignation with a new buzz at my fingertips. 

* * *

 "You did _what_?!" 

For once, I didn't wince at the sudden volume of my father's usually calm, quiet voice. Yep, I'd been expecting this. 

"I'm sorry, Hannah; run that by me again," Dad requested, his eyes still wide and jaw slack. 

'I quit my job,' I signed simply. 'Now I'm moving to Grandpa's farm.' 

At this, Dad didn't do much besides purse his lips and furrow his brow in skepticism. Again; hardly unexpected. 

"So you've just inherited your grandfather's farm," he relayed; hands together in front of his face in that usual pensive look he got when he was assessing something. "And so you've quit your job and made plans to move straight there, with no warning whatsoever." 

With a sigh, I rolled my eyes and proceeded to sign, 'I _have_  thought this through, Dad. I called the mayor of the local town, who's been looking after the place since Grandpa died. He said that he'll have the place ready for me by the new year.' 

"Yes, but... _farming_ ," Dad flustered, his hands waving about. "That's a lot of work, Hannah." 

'Yes, but it's profitable.' 

"Only if you know what you're doing." 

'I do know what I'm doing. I've done the research, applied for a farming license, made sure I have enough money saved in my account for emergencies, and got insurance. Trust me, it'll be worth it.' 

Dad opened his mouth to argue, but quickly clammed up when the he heard the door swing open. We both turned our heads to the hallway, where Meryl was hauling in bags full of shopping. 

Wonderful... 

"Oh, Hannah!" She squeaked when she noticed my presence. "You're back early! Did something happen at work, sweetie?" 

Immediately, Dad looked at me; his expression saying 'you're on your own'. 

'I quit my job,' I signed. 

"That's nice, sweetie-. Wait, you what?" 

The look on Meryl's face mimicked that of Dad's when I told him what I was planning on doing. 

'I quit my job,' I repeated simply. 'Turns out I inherited Grandpa's farm. So now I'm going to live there. It'll be a nice change from my old job.' 

"But... but Hannah," Meryl began, her voice taking on that lecturing tone that I had tired of since I was twelve. "That's a rather rash decision, don't you think? I mean, there's the insurance, and the labour-." 

'I've sorted everything I need to,' I interrupted quickly. 'Insurance, license, everything. I just need to get there.' 

"But a _farm_!" Meryl protested loudly, making me wince at the pitch of her voice. 

'It's my Grandpa's farm,' I pressed, the movements of my hands strong and definite. 'And if I don't take it, then it'll become state property, and I don't want that to happen. I loved that place as a kid.' 

"As a child, yes," Dad countered. "But Hannah, there's a big difference between staying at your Grandfather's farm for a vacation, and actually _working_  there. On your _own_ , no less." 

'I'm aware,' I signed; frowning. 'But this is the change I need. Seriously, Joja has been sucking the life out of me since day one. Since I quit, I've been feeling _better_.' 

Both of them froze, and I knew I'd gotten through to them. Bringing up my mental health so suddenly always shut them up. 

"That's... probably just the rush, sweetheart," Dad said quietly. "New, sudden decisions, you know." 

" _Dad_ ," I snapped, surprising them both with my voice alone. "I am doing this regardless of what you say. I've paid for the bus ticket, and I'm leaving on January second." 

"Oh..." My parents said quietly. 

I sighed, shoulders falling ever so slightly. 'I'm staying for New Year's, at least." 

At this, Dad managed a smile. "Okay. Yeah... Just be sure to visit, okay? And call us every now and then." 

'Sure thing, Dad.' 

* * *

 I couldn't help the massive grin that found its way onto my toothy features as I put the phone back on the receiver. The farm had finally gone to Hannah; officially. I had called for the water, gas and electricity to be supplied again, and just asked Robin to repair any damages that the house may have suffered since Jack's death. 

"Eighteen years," I mused, scratching at my moustache out of habit. "I was expecting it to be longer. Was the city that bad?" 

I brushed it aside. Whatever problems Hannah may have had in the city; she'd tell someone in due time. 

But for now, I had to alert everyone to the news. 

"Let's just hope she's as accepting of our... circumstances... as her grandfather." 


	2. Chapter 1 - Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I realise that running my grandfather's farm is going to take a lot more work than I'd expected, and I am greeted like an old friend.

The bus journey to Stardew Valley was long and boring; ten hours, at least. Being the only passenger, I quickly grew tired with staring out of the window, watching the world blur past in what was first a mix of greys and whites, before transitioning to emerald greens and rich, earthy browns. I'd have plenty of time to look at trees and nature when I arrived. 

About an hour into the journey, I pulled out my book; _'Shadow and Bone'_ by Leigh Bardugo; and slipped my headphones into my ears, putting my playlist of quieter songs on shuffle as I did so. Before long, I'd slipped into the world of the Grisha with S.J. Tucker singing alongside me. As always, my mind deviated at random parts of the book and started imagining my own, idealised versions of what had happened in the story. 

I must have dozed off into some sort of half sleep at some point, because when I slowly returned to awareness, the sky seemed much dimmer than it had been before, and my playlist was replaying songs I'd already heard earlier. My face was sore from being pressed up against the window, and the weirdness of the sensation grew sixfold when I pulled away from the cold glass. My book had fallen to the floor, and the seatbelt cut into my shoulder when I leaned down to grab it. I wanted to ask the driver how long it would be before we arrived at Stardew Valley, but when I opened my mouth, my vocal cords refused to produce sound in front of a stranger. Great... 

I checked the charge on my phone. 65%. Content that that would last me a while, I pulled up the Notes app and started tapping away, continuing to write a little story that I had cooked up yesterday and spent the majority of the night obsessing over. 

* * *

 "Hey, lady. We're almost there. Lady... Lady!" 

I jolted out of my music-laden daydream at the muffled sound of the driver's voice. Yanking out one of my headphones, I stared wide-eyed at the man, who was glowering at me over his shoulder. Once he had my attention, he returned to looking at the road. 

"Half an hour, and we'll be there," he grumbled. I only managed a small hum of acknowledgement, but it was something, at least. 

Half an hour later, the bus was pulling up at the Stardew Valley bus station. I was quick to pick up my backpack and get up and exit the bus behind the driver, and grab my bag from the luggage compartment. It contained mostly mundane items, such as clothes, underwear, toothbrush, etc. What little personal items I'd had in my dingy city apartment, such as a bunch of ornaments that I had collected over the years, would eventually be delivered to me in a few weeks. Sadly, I'd been too stingy to pay for faster service. 

The bus departed as soon as I was out of the way, and I just... stood there like an idiot, gawking at the lush greenery surrounding me. Flowers dotted the grass, and bushes bore fat, pink berries that looked like raspberries, but with my experience, they could've been anything. Hey, what do you expect? I hadn't been to the countryside since I was five, of course I'd have no idea what everything was. 

"Hey, stranger." 

I jumped and almost screamed at the sound of an unfamiliar voice and footsteps approaching me. Whipping round, I locked eyes with a tall, red-haired woman in a yellow hoodie and shirt. Her green cargo pants and heavy black boots were splattered with mud, and there was a fierce glint in her bright green eyes. 

With a wordless mumble, I raised my hand in a small wave. Shit... Well done, Hannah... 

"You the new farmer?" The woman enquired, a friendly smile alighting her face. I noticed that around her neck was a shimmering, emerald green, spherical gem clasped in glittering silver designed to look like a bird cage, with twisting vines and tiny flowers entwined in the bars, hanging from a simple black cord around her neck. 

Managing to tear my eyes away from the gem, I looked her in the eye and nodded, making her grin widen. 

"I'm Robin, the local carpenter," she introduced, holding her hand out for me to shake. Perhaps a little too hastily, I shook the offered appendage. "You're Hannah, right? Hannah Moonfell?" 

Again, I nodded. 

"Not much of a talker, huh? Yeah, Lewis said you might be quiet." 

Lewis... the name seemed familiar... 

_"Gw_ _anka Lew! Looki_ _t this chicky! Imma call her_ _Fwuffy_ _!"_  

Oh, yes... Now I remembered. Still, no time for reminiscing. I quickly shook my head out of my daze and focused back in on Robin. 

"Ready to go to your farm?" She asked. "It's just down the road." 

Eager to press on, I nodded. I was tired, and wanted to just... I don't know... sleep? Something like that. 

"Great!" Robin grinned. "Here, I'll take your bag. Mayor Lewis is just at the farm, tidying a few things up for you." 

Before I could raise my hands to sign a protest, Robin had grabbed my heavy bag and proceeded to walk off with it. I quickly trotted after her, not wanting to look a fool of myself. She led me down the short dirt road and turned right at the fork. After a few minutes, the path reached a gate that currently hung open, with the wooden sign nailed to it proudly displaying the name 'Moonvale Farm' engraved on it. 

"Here we are!" Robin proclaimed, coming to a stop and swinging her arm in a wide arc to show me-. 

A forest... 

I stared at Robin, silently asking her if this was some sort of joke. But she wasn't looking at me, and the grin on her face was so genuine that... 

Oh, god... 

My shoulders sagged. Of course... It had been eighteen years since Grandpa's farm had received any proper upkeep; of course it was going to become overgrown. 

I just hadn't expected _this_. A literal forest, wild and untamed, dominated the entire field. Thick oaks and great, towering pines proudly displayed their budding seeds, and proud maples tangled branches with their neighbours, wide leaves gleaming in the sunlight. Tall grass that went up to my waist was joined by masses of rocks and fallen branches that I was in no way strong enough to move on my own. 

An exasperated groan escaped my throat, earning a quiet, apologetic laugh from Robin. 

"Yeah, it is a little overgrown," she admitted. A little? I was looking at a damned _army_ of trees, and she was calling it ' _a little_ overgrown'. She deserved a prize in making understatements. 

"But there's good soil beneath all that mess," Robin continued brightly, trying to lighten the mood. It wasn't working, though. "With a little dedication, you'll have it cleaned up in no time!" 

While I admit, her optimism was growing infectious, I still wasn't overly convinced. Oh well, it seemed there was no time left for me to take it in, as Robin had begun walking over to the small house situated before me. There was familiarity to its rustic red tiles and scuffed wood paneling, the battered green shutters and even the pile of wood that I assumed was meant to be firewood stashed underneath an awning. 

"And here we are!" Robin announced; still bright and cheerful as ever. I couldn't help but smile in return. "Your new home!" 

Home was a strange word, I realised. When I thought of home, I thought of dark, dank grey streets, car fumes that gave me headaches every time I went outside, and towering, oppressive skyscrapers that reminded me how insignificant I was to the world. People say that 'home is where the heart is', but I honestly didn't know where my heart was supposed to be unless I was talking about the literal, flesh and blood one pumping in my chest. 

But this worn-out little cottage that looked like it had only just been patched up seemed... friendly to me... Maybe I could call it home, eventually.  

I was distracted from my thoughts by the front door clicking open, and the appearance of a greying man in a cap and green shirt with a startlingly bright yellow tie. His curled moustache was bushy, as were his eyebrows, but he seemed like the tidy sort. But then again, I could be completely wrong. I'm not a wonderful judge of character. When he saw me, his slate coloured eyes lit up immediately, as if he were seeing an old friend for the first time in ages. Oddly enough, the same feeling of familiarity stirred up in my own chest. 

"Hannah," the man greeted warmly, his eyes crinkling in a smile that made his teeth flash in the sunlight. He opened his arms, as if expecting a hug, but I stayed where I was, standing just a little bit behind Robin. Regardless of familiarity, I didn't feel comfortable with hugging someone I barely remembered. Seeming to notice this, the man retracted his offering of an embrace and settled for just smiling at me. "It's good to see you again. You probably don't remember me, don't you?" 

I simply nodded in confirmation, and he dipped his head in reply. 

"Well, I'm Lewis; Mayor of Pelican Town," Lewis explained. "We talked over the phone, remember?" 

Again, I nodded. 

"You've certainly grown up since I saw you last; you only went up to my hip, now look at you," Lewis chuckled fondly, gesturing to my height, which had once been rather embarrassing back in high school started, thanks to the number of boys from the basketball team asking me to join them in practice, leading to me making a complete fool of myself upon revealing how utterly hopeless I was at sport. "Almost as tall as your grandfather." 

Oh... That was new... Dad had always said Grandpa was rather short. 

My surprise must have registered on my face, because again, Lewis chuckled; his laughter and merriment more infectious than Robin's. "He was a tall fella, your grandpa," he said. "But the old rascal had the most deplorable posture you could imagine. Don't fall prey to the slouch, young'un; mark my words, you'll regret it later in life." 

_Good thing he never saw my posture when I worked at Joja,_ I thought. 

'You were friends with my Grandpa?' I signed in question when I felt I had the chance of communicating. Hopefully, the man knew sign language. 

To my surprise, he did. 

"We were very good friends before he died," Lewis said fondly, the moment my hands stilled. "I first met him when he was still a greenhorn who couldn't tell an axe from a hoe, hehe. I still remember the look on his face when he introduced you to me; you were only two, but already had his fierce spirit. You used to call me Grunkle Lew, remember that?" 

I shook my hand in a rapid tilting motion and shrugged, hoping he got the message. He seemed a little... saddened... by my response. 

"Well, I suppose I can't fault you," he said gently, tugging at one of his suspenders. "It has been a little over eighteen years since I saw you last, and you were barely even five. I had been hoping that your father would have stepped in and looked after this place until you were older, but... I suppose it was a bit much to expect him to just drop a successful job in the city and drag not only you but his wife here as well." 

I simply nodded. Dad was happy in the city, and although my step-mother often made me want to scream, Meryl made him especially happy. Neither of them would have been able to handle the transition from bustling city life to quiet farm work that required a lot of physical labour. 

"But now," Lewis continued, his smile brightening again. "You're moving into your grandfather's old cottage and following his footsteps. Very brave decision, if I do say so myself." 

Brave, hmm? In all honesty, my actions had eventually seemed cowardly; running away from an oppressive job to the country in the hopes of cleaning off the slate and starting over. But Lewis seemed to have this effect over me, as if anything he said, I would agree. 

'Dad and Meryl weren't happy,' I told him. 'Said I wouldn't be able to handle it.' 

At this, Lewis snorted. "Pish posh. If you're anything like you were eighteen years ago, you'll do just fine. And if your grandfather could handle it, then so can you. Trust me." 

Remarkably, I did. As I said before; Lewis seemed the agreeable type. 

"Well, come in," Lewis quickly offered, holding the door open and waving me inside. "You'll like it here; the house is very rustic." 

Robin jokingly muttered something that sounded a lot like "'Crusty' might be a little more apt of a description" under her breath, but I was too preoccupied with getting in and unpacking my things so that I wouldn't be a bother to these people any more. So while Lewis was calling the redhead out on her rudeness, I quickly took to exploring the house. 

The front door led into a small living area that opened out into an equally quaint kitchen. My boots clacked against laminate flooring as I spun round in the same spot, taking in the small table and chair in one corner, the large, ancient TV in the opposite corner of the living room, and the brick fireplace in the one adjacent to that. There was a large crate in the centre of the room. Dark granite worktops covered every surface in the kitchen save for the relatively new-looking gas cooker, and the tall, shiny fridge freezer. Wooden cupboards lined most of the walls, and there was a sink by the wall as well. A square paneled window looked out into the woods behind the property. Content that I had seen everything in that room, I went to the other door in the room, revealing a rather empty bedroom with just a single bed against the wall, another fireplace further down the wall from it, and a fake potted plant in the corner. 

"I know it's not much," Lewis admitted as he followed me into the bedroom. "But you'll grow into it, I assure you." 

'It's nice,' I signed quickly. 'Just needs someone living in it again.' 

That earned a smile from the old Mayor. "True." 

"Hey, if you ever need anything to spruce the place up," Robin began as she lugged my bag in. I immediately felt bad about making her carry it. I should have taken it back, dammit. "Like some nice, shiny new wood furniture; I'm available most days of the week, so come hit me up." 

Immediately, Lewis rolled his eyes at her. "Robin, stop pressuring her into buying things from you," he reprimanded, his annoyed tone forcing a chuckle out of me. 

"Heh, sorry," Robin apologised. She turned to me, still smiling. "But I'm serious. If you want something like a chicken coop, a new set of shelves, or even just someone to talk to, then just take the northern path up from your farm; I'm only a twenty minute walk away." 

'Thank you,' I replied. 

"Hey, no worries." 

Lewis chose that moment to step in. "I'm glad you're already feeling settled here, Hannah," he said. "But you must be tired from the long journey, so we'll leave you to get some rest. That box there," he pointed to the crate that I'd noticed in the living room, "has some old tools I found; you can use those to help get started. Oh, and that crate next to the house?" I nodded, remembering seeing a large wooden box with a handle on top. "If you have anything to sell, just place it in there. I'll come by every night to collect it and pay you for your hard work." 

Okay... strange means of making money, but it worked, so I wasn't going to complain. I nodded in understanding and gave him a thumbs up. 

"Well, good luck," Lewis grinned, making his way to the front door with Robin. "I suggest that tomorrow, you head over to town and introduce yourself. It's not often someone new comes around, so everyone's wondering who you are." 

Ah, the social interaction. That would be fun. 

"I hope to see you again soon," Lewis said before departing, with Robin hot on his heels. However, the woman stopped just outside the door. 

"You'll find this place to be more than what it first appears," she said, her tone friendly, but... oddly serious. "But I think you'll like it. See you." 

"Bye," I murmured, just as the door clicked shut. I immediately felt cold, despite the sunlight still shining strong through the windows. Shivering, I pulled my hoodie tighter over my thin form and looked around myself and scanned the house once more. Now I noticed the dust floating in the air. While it wasn't enough to make the place seem abandoned, it was enough to remind me that I had just claimed ownership to a property that hadn't been inhabited or properly maintained in almost twenty years. 

I felt very alone, and very scared. The weight of what I had chosen to do finally registered on my shoulders. 

"What am I doing here?" I whispered to myself, feeling a crushing darkness push at my mental boundaries. 

_Easy; you're running a farm,_ snapped the voice in my head that always showed up when my self-doubt started creeping in again. It had never been this loud though. _You're going to do what_ _Grandpa_ _did, and be happy for once._  

"God, I hope you're right," I sighed. 

Taking Lewis's advice, I decided to get some rest. Finishing off the sandwiches that I had brought with me for the journey (I was currently too lazy to see if it was possible for me to make myself a proper meal), I got changed into the t-shirt and boxers that I used as pyjamas and flopped into bed. 


	3. Chapter 2 - First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While I knew farm work was tough, I hadn't quiet expected it to be this tough. Still, at least I made a friend. I hope...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... this could've been better. I got stuck with the dialogue, but I really just wanted to get it over with.
> 
> Introducing Pierre, Caroline and Elliott! Did I do good?
> 
> Also, I edited a small detail in the prologue. Just thought I'd let you know ;)

I woke up to no alarm or cockerel crow the next morning. A glance at the old-fashioned alarm clock told me it was five o'clock in the morning. I had told myself that if I wanted to do anything productive here, I had to be up by six at the latest, which was relatively easy for me. Sort of. Waking up was easy; I was usually conscious by six a.m.; but actually getting up out of bed was a waking nightmare. I despised having to rise from the warm comforts of my bed at any time before ten, which I put down to my perpetual lack of sleep. I blamed _that_ on my brain's refusal to go on standby until the wee (and ridiculous) hours of the morning. 

However, to my surprise, I didn't feel the need to curl up in the sheets and lament over my life choices this morning. In fact, I actually _wanted_ to get out of bed and do something productive. 

_"That's... probably just the rush, sweetheart,"_ Dad's voice echoed in my head. I batted it away immediately. The last thing I need was the mental image of my dad and stepmum lecturing me and making me feel shit about my decision. Frowning, I aggressively kicked off the covers and hauled myself out of bed with – to my amazement – more vigour than I usually possessed. 

Maybe it _had_ been a good idea to come here. 

The laminate pine flooring of my small bedroom was cool against the soles of my feet; the sensation oddly soothing. For the first time in over a year, my toes didn't curl at the feeling of a matted old carpet that had been ingrained with years worth of dirt and was in dire need of a replacement, which I couldn't afford. It caused for a bleary half-smile to cross my pale features. 

Stretching and yawning (it crossed my mind that I felt rather like a cat), I made my way to the kitchen and started aimlessly searching the cupboards for something I could call breakfast. I turned out that Mayor (or Grunkle, as I had apparently known him as, when I was little) Lewis had taken the liberty to stock me up on a few essentials. There was a large carton of milk and some butter in the fridge, a loaf of bread wrapped in brown paper in the bread bin (why do they call them bread _bins_?), and two boxes of cereal in one of the cupboards. The cereals consisted of cornflakes, and something called 'choco pillows', which were apparently squares of cereal with chocolate inside. Naturally, my hand reached for the chocolatey option. Mind on autopilot, I grabbed a bowl and filled it with the sugary cereal, and poured some milk on top of it. As an afterthought, I fetched a spoon before sitting down at the table and mechanically eating the meagre breakfast I'd prepared. 

When I was finished, I lifted the bowl to my lips and gulped down the chocolatey milk that had been left over. Childish, I know, but there was no cat or dog to drink it for me, and I wasn't about to let it go to waste. 

Having eaten, I felt infinitely more awake, which I wasn't sure to take as a blessing, curse, or witchcraft, because I was _never_ this energised or alert first thing in the morning. 

Deciding to just put it down to better air quality and the lack of a soul-sucking desk job over the horizon, I went back to my room to get changed out of my pyjamas. Pulling clothes out of my suitcase willy-nilly, I quickly settled on some comfortable jeans and a red hoodie over a grey Civil Wars t-shirt. Then I swapped the hoodie for a black scarf I bought last month; I'd rather not get too hot and sweaty whilst I worked. And lastly, I slipped on my glasses. Good; I was dressed, and it wasn't even five thirty. 

It occurred to me that one bowl of cereal probably wasn't going to cut it for breakfast in this new lifestyle of labour, so I sliced some bread and put it in the toaster, then brewed myself some herbal tea (strawberry, according to the packet) that I found hidden behind the kettle. Within minutes, I had two slices of buttered toast and a mug of steaming tea in front of me. The slices were sloppy and uneven, but the thick layer of butter on top was appetising enough, and although I scalded my tongue on the tea due to my impatience to do something besides eat, I found I appreciated the gentle sweetness of it once it had cooled down. 

Whilst I ate, I switched on the TV and flicked through the channels. There was one dedicated solely to tomorrow's weather, looping the same sixty seconds of footage over and over, and a fortune teller's program, which basically did the same thing, except it told about how the spirits were feeling today. Sadly, they were the only ones with any decent footage that wasn't completely ruined by static and interference. 

_So clear weather tomorrow,_ I thought to myself as I finished up my tea. _Let's see if that statement holds true. And if that fortune program is to be taken seriously, I'm in for a bad day today... I thought I'd moved away from that..._  

Sighing, I placed my dishes in the sink before brushing my hair and teeth in the bathroom. 

_I'll shower in the evening;_ _I'd rather not go through the trouble of washing myself just to get sweaty and gross less than an hour later,_ I decided as I took in the simple off-white white tiling of the bathroom that was just off the living room. Better than grey, in any case. 

Finally, it was time for me to open up the crate of tools that Lewis had left for me. Lifting the lid, I first noticed the sharp, gleaming blade of the scythe. With trepid hands, I lifted it out and gave it a brief inspection. The handle was long, making the tool stand at a little less than shoulder height for me. So they were that big in real life. 

Next was a battered-looking hoe, a pickaxe that was a little bent on one side, and an axe that had a few flecks of rust on it. All three of them had handles as long as my leg, made of the same smooth dark wood. 

_Did Grandpa use these?_ I wondered as I set them aside to bring out a dented watering can that thankfully didn't stink of mildew like my old apartment had. Next to it was a big backpack, and inside it was a pair of dark brown leather gloves. Immediately, I picked them up and inspected them. They looked new; there were no marks in the surface, and they were relatively firm. Feeling an awful lot like a child playing dress-up, I slipped them on, marveling at how snugly they fit. They were thick, and surprisingly supple, stopping just a few inches beneath my elbow. Well, Grandpa certainly didn't use these, it looked as if they were tailored specifically for me. Impossible, of course; I'd practically just arrived. 

Then I noticed the yellow packet with a note taped to it, huddled in the corner of the crate. It was a packet of parsnip seeds and some cash. The neat, rounded handwriting on the note read: 

_Here's a little something to get you started._  

_~ Lewis_  

A smile found its way onto my face. That was nice. Encouraged by this small act of kindness, I straightened up and picked up my tools. There were loops on the backpack to hold them, but I wasn't intending to travel far with them right now. 

Stepping outside dampened my spirits somewhat. The sight of the nightmarishly overgrown field that I now owned sneered back at me as the weight of the tools I carried suddenly became very, very heavy. 

How was I going to clean up this mess? 

_Stay determined!_ Cheered the voice in my head. 

_Hey, quit it with the_ _Undertale_ _quotes,_ I snapped back. Still, I managed to feel somewhat better about things. 

I propped the tools up against the porch, and looked around at the overgrowth before me. There was a small area, just in front of the house, where the plant life  wasn't quite as dense as everything else; just a few shrubs and rocks here and there. Content that it was a good place to start, I grabbed my pickaxe and  strode over to the nearest rock. It was as big as my head, so I decided to just haul it away without using the pick. It was heavy, but not impossible. After lugging it  to the edge of the forested area, I continued to do the same with any other rocks I could lift. Checking the time, I found that it was half past six. I'd spent almost an hour hauling rocks away from my soon-to-be farming plot. 

Then I moved onto breaking apart the bigger ones. Hefting the pick over my shoulder, I swung it at the rock in front of me with a mighty yell. 

I only managed to chip off a tiny piece of it as the pick glanced off of its side. Excellent job... 

I tried again. This time, the pick hit dead center, and a crack formed on impact. Encouraged, I swung again. I missed, but hey, it wasn't the end of the world. On my fourth attempt, I hit it again, and finally succeeded in breaking it in half. Excellent. Despite the ache in my arms, I shifted the pieces away to the rock pile I'd accumulated. 

For another hour, I worked on getting rid of all the rocks with my pick and cutting down all the weeds and shrubs with the scythe. The rush of air that the bigger tool made was oddly soothing, and the clean _'_ _sching!'_ of the blade as it sliced through the plants sent a previously rare wave of satisfaction washing over me. I certainly enjoyed it more than smashing rocks and pulling out roots. 

Eventually, I had several meters of (relatively) clear earth, ready for tilling. And it was only ten o'clock. 

_Maybe I should take a break,_ I debated. I was hot, sweaty and oddly lightheaded. _At least have a drink._  

Nodding in agreement to myself, I set aside my tools, pulled off my new gloves (god, my palms were sweaty) and went inside. Immediately, I went to the kitchen, found where all the glasses had been put, grabbed one and filled it with water before gulping it down. The cold liquid sloshed over my face more than once, and dribbled down my chin rather ungracefully, but I couldn't care less about my image right now. 

Once I'd succeeded in slaking my thirst, I grabbed the bread and butter and made myself some more toast since there wasn't much else I could make, considering I had yet to buy myself some proper supplies. 

Having eaten a poor excuse for a lunch, I went back outside and grabbed the hoe from its resting place on the porch. With no particular plan in mind, I picked a random spot to start and swung the tool's head into the dirt. It took me a little more than half an hour to turn out several square feet of earth. Dark and rich, but also dry and lifeless. 

_Let's change that._  

Digging the parsnip seeds out of my pocket, I set about planting them in the little plot I'd dug for myself. Hopefully they'd turn out alright. 

Finally, I reached the (hopefully) final step in my farming process: watering the crops. Picking up the watering can, I walked over to a small pond nearby and filled it, before showering the newly planted seeds in what I hoped was an acceptable amount of water. 

_That looks good,_ I thought. _Okay, what time is it?_  

I checked my phone. Eleven fifteen. It seems my luck today wasn't completely hopeless. 

Although it was practically nothing compared to what little I could remember of Grandpa's farm, I was rather proud of my work today. The only downside was the dull, almost painful ache in my arms and back that was the result of all this work. I was really out of shape, wasn't I? Stupid JojaCorp office. 

With the way my body was protesting, I wasn't sure if I could handle doing any more work today, but it would hurt like hell tomorrow, regardless. Urgh, I just hoped that I'd get used to all of this physical labour. 

_Maybe I should head into town; get the introductions over with._  

Deciding it wouldn't be such a bad idea, I put my tools back inside and grabbed the cash and backpack I'd been given, along with a little more money that I'd brought with me. Lewis had left 500g for me, and I'd got another 200, so that made 700g total. Hopefully it would be enough to buy me some more food. 

Making sure to lock the door behind me, I ambled down the road, past the bus stop and towards town. Before long, the dirt road turned into a smooth stone pathway, opening out into a wide town center. 

_Colourful_ _,_ I thought to myself as I took in the peaceful sight. It was nice; quaint buildings with tile roofs and wide windows. _I wonder if there's a store somewhere._  

The moment this crossed my mind, I was met with the sight of a shopfront; the simple wooden sign reading 'Pierre's' in neat letters. That was easy. 

Stepping forward, I was just about to enter when I was startled by a voice just behind me. 

"Hello there." 

With an indignant squeak, I spun round to see a green-haired woman with matching eyes and a blue-striped cardigan. Around her neck was a cord attached to what appeared to be a sapphire gem, encased in a simplistic golden cage, decorated with silver feathers. The ornate detail of the metalwork was astounding. It must have been expensive; custom-made, even. 

"Are you the new farmer?" The woman asked, her tone sweet like birdsong. 

Hands and voice frozen by the suddenness of the interaction, I nodded in dumb silence. 

"I'm Caroline," the woman smiled brightly. "My husband runs the general store here. And have you met my daughter, Abigail? She's the pale one with the purple hair." 

I shook my head again. I'd literally just set foot into town; she was the first person I'd even laid eyes on in this town. Of course I hadn't met her. But she didn't know that, I supposed. 

'My name is H-A-N-N-A-H,' I signed, hoping she too knew sign language. 

"Oh! You use sign language, do you?" Caroline asked, earning a nod from me. "I see. I don't mean to be rude when I ask this, but is there any reason?" 

Well. Honest question. At least she wasn't making any blind assumptions. 

'I'm not always comfortable with talking,' I replied simply. 

"Oh, I see. Well, how's Stardew Valley been for you so far?" 

'It's nice here,' I signed. 'Big change, though.' 

"Yes, the city must be pretty different to our small town," Caroline agreed. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Hannah." 

I nodded, and she turned to leave, heading to the other end of town. Just before I walked into the store, I noticed the bulletin board next to the door, and a calendar. 

_Must be for social events,_ I speculated as I pushed open the glass double doors of the shop. Immediately, I was greeted with the sight of half a dozen people (including the man in glasses standing at the cash register) inside. No one noticed my entrance save for the cashier. 

"Greetings!" He called over, making me to cringe on the inside. I wasn't much for attention. 

Still, I waved hello anyway. 

"Hey, are you the new farmer?" He asked, causing for more eyes to lock onto me. Yay... 

Trying to ignore the no doubt judging stares, I nodded, earning a smile from the cashier. He looked nice; thin-framed glasses and hair combed back neatly to better clarify his features, he certainly reflected the peaceful nature of the shop. 

"Welcome to Pelican Town, Miss," he greeted. "I'm Pierre; I own this store. You need anything; I'm your man." 

Again, I nodded, putting on a smile and signing 'It's nice to meet you', before sidling away to an empty aisle to pull my shit together. Wow, Joja had really messed up my social skills, hadn't they? Suddenly that job in MacDonald's didn't seem quite so bad. 

After a few moments of berating myself for being such an idiot, I looked up at the aisle I was standing in. Eggs, flour, and a few other essentials were conveniently stacked on the shelves in front of me. Nice. Walking out of the aisle, I grabbed a basket and started filling it with things I would need in order to feed myself. 

"Hello, there," sounded a rich, silky voice to my left. Thankfully, I didn't jump in shock at the suddenness of another person's arrival this time. Turning to face the newcomer, I had to fight the urge to let my jaw drop at the sight. 

_He's hot!_ Declared the voice in my head that seemed to find everyone attractive, one way or another, and subsequently develop a minor schoolgirl's crush on them. It was annoying, but this time, I couldn't help but agree; this guy was gorgeous! Six feet tall, elegant, chiseled features, silky caramel hair that framed his face perfectly, and pensieve, sea green eyes that glinted and swirled with knowledge of worlds unknown. Dressed in a crimson suit, he was the picture of class compared to my scruffy, fatigued self. 

"Um..." I mumbled stupidly. Already beating myself up, I quickly raised my hand to sign 'hello' to him. So far, three (maybe four if I counted Pierre) people understood sign language in this town; thus I assumed that more people did. 

"My name is Elliott," the man introduced, holding out a large yet slender hand towards me. I shook it, firmly. "It is a pleasure to meet you." 

'H-A-N-N-A-H M-O-O-N-F-E-L-L,' I responded, managing to murmur my name out loud for his benefit. Hopefully, he heard me correctly. 'It's nice to meet you too.' 

"I trust the move here has been kind to you," Elliott continued, his polite smile seeming to ease my nerves. "I know how disorienting moving to such a new place can be." 

'It's been good,' I signed. 'Farm work is tougher than I thought, but I'm really liking it here so far. A lot more peaceful than the city.' 

"Yes, Pelican Town does have that charm to it, doesn't it?" 

I nodded, reaching for a packet of chocolate chip cookies. Damn my weakness for sweet things. 

'Anything you'd recommend for me to do?' I asked. 

A low chuckle rumbled out of Elliott's throat. "Well, the beach presents a beautiful view," he replied eagerly. "And the tide leaves behind some very pretty shells." 

At the mention of seashells, I perked up. 'I'll be sure to give it a visit,' I signed, smiling back at the charismatic man, who looked like he'd just sauntered out of a romance novel. Jeez, that comparison took a while to come up with. 

"And I'll be sure to meet you there," Elliott smiled. "I live in the little cabin on the beach." 

'Ok. I should probably go and pay for this stuff. It was nice to meet you.' 

'Likewise,' Elliott signed back, much to my surprise. Eyes wide, I grinned up at him, thankful that there was someone else who so readily communicated with me the same way I did. 

* * *

At first glance, the girl hadn't seemed much. Relatively average save for her surprising height, her fatigued, onyxian eyes had done little to catch my attention, and scatty hair of a dull charcoal colour was tied back into a loose, unassuming ponytail that revealed her thin, pale face. A bitter tang tainted the air around her, reminding me of the fumes that Joja's accursed trucks constantly spewed out, and it was accompanied by the chemical reek of cheap shampoo. Nevertheless, I kept my eyes on her, hoping to notice something interesting. 

The way in which she hastily fled the gaze of the store's inhabitants concerned me. Shyness wasn't something I was awfully familiar with, and the fact that she communicated in sign language, despite seeming to hear Pierre perfectly. Immediately, I was curious. 

Conversation with Hannah had been surprisingly enjoyable, despite not much being said between us. Her calm composure and modest smile had me most intrigued, and her interest in the beach and its promises had earned her more of my favour. It was a shame to see her go, but I was looking forward to seeing her again. 

Yet as I fingered at the black cord around my neck, and the shimmering, ocean gem that hung from it in a basket of silver, I couldn't help but worry... 


	4. Chapter 3 - Days Pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I make new friends and a little bit of progress. It's something.  
> ###  
> I hate her. I absolutely hate her.  
> ###  
> Seems not everyone is as welcoming as I thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really enjoying writing this. It's good stress relief after revising for exams.
> 
> And thanks for the feedback on the story so far, it really makes me feel better :)

Exiting Pierre's, I simply meandered aimlessly until I found myself at a bench to the south of town with a backpack full of groceries. In front of me was a small, modest-looking cemetery with simple oblong headstones that I was in no angle to see the engravings on, and to my right was a pretty-looking flower arrangement; bright colours and hayfever galore. 

"Umm... Sorry, am I intruding?" 

Looking up, I met eyes; green against black; with a slim, pretty redhead with her hair tied in a bun. She looked nice, with a shy look in her eyes and a gentle smile. In her hands was a small book, and around her neck was a thin black cord attached to a stick of shimmering, rainbow-coloured stone (opal?), clasped in silver designed to look like eroded rock. Were these a trend? Fancy gemstone amulets? Where could I get one, they looked gorgeous! 

"Uh, no, no," I flustered quietly, pushing my bag away so that it didn't take up any space. With a grateful smile, the woman sat down next to me and flipped open her book. It was about the size of an A5 piece of paper, with a hardback cover. Despite my curiosity, I fought the urge to look over her shoulder in order to peek at the title. "Um... good book?" 

"Yes, actually," she smiled, her voice soft and quiet. "It's called _'Rare Gem'_ , by Howler Rei." 

"Cool. What's it about?" 

"Um... I've not gotten very far into it, but it's about a... a gem miner, I think? There's definitely some sort of, um... nature spirit, I think." 

At this, I smiled, certainly interested. 'Sounds like my kind of story,' I said. 'Mind if I have a look when you're done?' 

"Oh, of course. Um... where do you live? I can send it over. Actually, I don't think we've met; I'm sorry. My name's Penny. Are you the new farmer?" 

I nodded. 'Yes; I arrived yesterday. My name's H-A-N-N-A-H.' 

"It's nice to meet you. You know, everyone's been talking about you." 

Hearing this, I faltered a little. 'Really?' 

"Of course. We don't get many newcomers here, and Lewis would talk about that old farm a lot. It's nice to hear that someone's trying to get it back on its feet." 

I don't know why, but I laughed at that. A brief snort of dry humour. 'Let's just hope I don't mess it up.' 

"Oh, I think you'll figure it out," Penny smiled, her eyes wide and honest. "I'm still learning to cook, so don't worry." 

Well... that helped me feel better. 'Thanks.' 

"You're welcome." 

* * *

The next few days mixed together in a jumbled blur, despite how eventful they were. I know that I'd met most of the people in town by now, and Penny had lent me her book that I'd seen her reading. She'd been nice, and arranged to meet at the library a few times. She was the first person I steadfastly called a friend. 

I'd taken up Elliott's offer to meet up at the beach, however, I wasn't sure if our meeting could be considered a date, since all we really did was pick seashells and talk about ideas for what we could write. For the first time in years, I had the drive to write more fiction than my work hours had allowed me (which wasn't all that much, to be perfectly honest). True, most of what I did was never finished, but it was nice to have the motivation to type out my ideas on the battered old laptop I had, with its outdated version of Microsoft Word. 

My outing with Elliott had lead to meeting the fisherman who lived on the pier; a tough-looking man with a fuzzy grey beard and a tobacco pipe. Although the presence of smoke put me off a little, the fisherman was pleasant company and reminded me of my great uncle. He even offered to teach me how to fish. 

A walk through the forest just south of the farm resulted in me bumping into a lady called Leah. The first thing that caught my eye had been her bright red hair. The colour reminded me of a friend I knew in high school, who... I hadn't seen in a while. She was an aspiring artist; something I immediately took to. We didn't talk much, but she suggested meeting up at the Stardrop Saloon sometime. I told her I'd think about it. 

Heading home that same day had me meeting Marnie; the woman who lived just outside the southern exit to the field. I hadn't had the courage to talk to her until she called me over to say hello. Warm, bubbly, and possibly not quite understanding the meaning of personal space, because she had a habit of hugging me; a lot, and although she gave some pretty awesome hugs, I slowly grew more and more overwhelmed until I managed to escape. 

It seemed things were going well so far. 

* * *

By day four, I'd managed to clear away a bit more of the field, and planted more seeds; parsnips, green beans and potatoes. It was raining, and my first crop of parsnips had fully grown (already? Wow, I thought it would take longer). 

Without the need to water my crops by hand, I didn't have much to do besides chop down more trees and clear more rocks away until exhaustion tugged at my mind, and my limbs begged me to stop. Not wanting to pass out, I turned in for the day and plodded into the kitchen in search of a meal. I considered French toast, but I'd had that for two days in a row, and I was too tired to put any effort into cooking, so... 

I guess it was time to have a meal at the Stardrop Saloon. 

* * *

As much as I tried not to, I couldn't help but notice that recently, the main topic of conversation in the bar had changed yet again as another 'big event' occurred. From what I could remember through my current tipsyness, the chitchat was probably about the newcomer who'd moved in this week, and was the reason why everyone was keeping their pendants on at all times. My suspicions were confirmed when I heard the words 'farmer' and 'that lovely new girl' being tossed around. Geez, even Pam was slurring gossip about this farmer, I could hear her grating voice from across the room. 

Then again, I could usually hear her from across the room. 

The one thing that remained constant throughout my day right now was the sound of rain hitting windows and roofs outside, and the taste of beer in my mouth. Through the window, I could see the darkness of night had set in. It was a Friday, meaning a lot of people were at the Saloon to unwind; something I could never achieve. Robin and her husband were dancing to an old tune that was playing on the jukebox, Elliott and Leah were having a cheerful (and steadily growing louder as the drinks kept coming) conversation with each other, Clint and Willy were at their usual table whilst the blacksmith kept giving Emily goo-goo eyes, Pierre was downing a beer on his own at the counter and talking with Gus about business affairs or something, and... urgh... Mayor Lewis and Aunt Marnie were having a drink together, and getting too friendly for my liking. Jeez, get a room already... 

Something caught my eye. Outside; by the window. A tall, lanky shape that was making its way to the door. What was..? 

Oh. Probably just someone else coming in. Must be that goth kid, come to meet up with his perky friend who put on too much hair gel in the mornings. I went back to my beer; the brief rush of air as the door opened made me shiver, but that was nothing new. 

"Hey there!" Emily shouted, the high pitch of her voice painful against my ears and actually making me wince. Ever heard of volume control? And since when did she ever greet Robin's weird kid like that? Nevermind; just get back to the beer. I tipped my glass back and gulped down what was left, the cold, bubbly liquid soothing my throat, and helping to numb the ever present emptiness in my chest. I didn't notice the way a few conversations seemed to just stop and change topic. 

The quiet sound of footsteps grew steadily louder as someone approached, and the soft squeak of the barstool barely caught my interest as someone sat in it. 

"I'm good, thanks. You?" Emily chattered, seeming to have a conversation with no one. Crazy bird. "You want a whole pizza to yourself? Well, I guess I can't blame you; farming is hungry work after all. I'll just go put some in the oven; I'll be right back." 

My brain paused at that. Farming?  The goth didn't farm, he hardly even showed his face in town. Must be the new farmer, then. Seemed they had good taste if they were ordering pizza. 

With that in mind, I risked a glance up at the newcomer. 

And hated her immediately. 

She was obviously tall, and skinny too; dressed in a blue flannel shirt over a black top, jeans and muddy work boots. Dark, damp hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, but some escaped strands managed to cling to her forehead, hanging over grey, almost black eyes that glinted with that sickening spark of hope that I never wanted to see in my own eyes again. 

I was looking at one of _those_ people; the ones who dropped everything and ran off to the nearest haven in search of a new start, only to discover that there was no such thing, and ended up back in the same vicious cycle that they'd been trapped in before; the only difference being the savage amounts of alcohol and self-hatred that they drowned themselves in every night. 

It was disgusting to look at. I ordered another beer. 

* * *

I'd yet to visit the Saloon during its more populated hours. When I first came, it was just to say hi to Gus and Emily, and not many people besides Pam had been there at the time. The place had seemed pleasant, but there had been an emptiness to it that made me feel uncomfortable, especially since most of the attention had been on me most at the time. 

But during the evening, when business boomed, and people had the time to go out and socialise, it was quite enjoyable. There was a warmth to the air around me, and the calm buzz of chatter at my back assured me that I wasn't the center of everyone's attention. 

Yet still, there were eyes on me. I could feel them; boring relentlessly in my skull like a power drill to the temple; their harsh, judging, disgusted gaze reserved solely for me. 

I was thankful for the arrival of pizza to distract me. Digging in, I relished the taste of cheese and tomato sauce against my tongue, and the heat that landed in my stomach when I swallowed. 

"Wow, you weren't kidding when you said you were hungry," Emily; the barmaid; stated cheerfully, as she served a beer to someone in  the corner. 

I nodded. 'And tiring.' 

"Must be. That field is pretty overgrown." 

'I'm working on it.' 

The eyes didn't leave me. Curious and uncomfortable, I searched around for whoever was giving me such hateful looks behind my back. 

Or rather, to my right, just a few feet in front of me. Dull black found murky green, just before the latter darted away to glare at a glass of beer. 

I tapped the countertop with my knuckles to get Emily's attention. 'Who's that?' I asked. 

Him?" Emily enquired, pointing to the man in the corner. He was still staring at his beer. "That's Marnie's nephew, Shane." 

Oh. 

'I've not seen him around before.' 

"Oh, he works every day at the JojaMart. Not one for socialising, to be honest." 

Hardly surprising. I still remembered the empty evenings where I would just lie in bed, doing nothing except purposefully ignoring the buzzing of my phone as friends I'd thought long gone asked how I was doing, and if I wanted to come over. After I discovered the JojaMart in town, I had felt rather sick and ran home to cry for an hour, before using it as a reminder for what I'd come here to escape and a reason to work harder. 

Not really expecting much of a response, I waved at him. Just to be polite. 

* * *

Eventually, I finished my meal; something Gus was very pleased with. After ordering a glass of lemonade and playing (read: failing) Journey of the Prairie King, I decided to head back to the farm. 

It seemed I wasn't the only one with home in mind. 

"Watch where you're going." 

"Sorry!" I squeaked, jumping out of the way of-. 

Shane glared up at me, his tired green eyes bloodshot and dark purple hair an unkempt mess. The bitter odour of alcohol pervaded his presence, and his chin was covered in a five o'clock shadow to match his tired demeanour. 

"You gonna go out?" He grumbled, hostility practically radiating from him. "Isn't that why you stood on me?" 

'Sorry,' I signed rapidly. 'You first.' 

He raised an eyebrow at that, as if he'd expected me to barge out through the door at the first opportunity. I was too polite for that, despite the rudeness of city life. 

'You first,' I repeated, managing to mumble the words out too, in case he didn't understand. 

There was a moment of tense silence between the two of us before he finally broke Iit. 

"Thanks," he said slowly, as if the word had been difficult to spit out. Despite him being a whole head shorter than me, I felt rather put off by his attitude. 

He didn't even give me a chance to properly introduce myself before he walked past. Ignoring the hot stinging in my chest, I followed him out. 

For a minute or so, I just trotted along behind him as we walked away from the Saloon. When he kept going as opposed to my sharp turn left, I felt myself relax a little. Shane put me on edge. 

Brushing it off, I headed home. 


	5. Chapter 4 - A Secret in the Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? I'm a night owl.  
> ...  
> Turns out I'm not the only one...  
> ###  
> Welp. I fucked up...  
> ###  
> I knew this place was too nice to get away without any secrets, but holy shit, I was not expecting this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UUUUUUGH!!! I did not like this chapter one bit! It sucks!
> 
> But hey, it's over and done with now; I can move onto the fun stuff :D
> 
> This... isn't beta'd by the way... sorry if there's any mistakes. Just let me know, and I'll correct them.

Two weeks passed by, and I was slowly getting the hang of farming. My green beans were almost fully grown, and I'd harvested my first potato crop, along with a few more parsnips. Things were going well in town, too; I was making friends with Leah and Elliott, and I'd met Penny at the library a few times as well. It was... nice. Like a fairytale compared to Zuzu City. 

Too nice to be true, as I eventually found out... 

* * *

It was past midnight, and I was having trouble sleeping. As usual. Tossing and turning, kicking off the sheets and wrapping myself up in them like a deformed, lumpy burrito did absolutely nothing to help me drift off. Bright silver moonlight streaked through the slats of my bedroom's shutters; peaceful compared to the harsh, unforgiving yellow of city street lamps that I'd grown so used to putting up with. 

Grumbling, I forced myself into some outdoor clothes; a magnificent feat of motivation for me. Although I had my doubts, I figured maybe a walk about the field would help. 

I just needed a torch. Where did I put it..? Oh, yes; the cupboard underneath the kitchen sink. 

Flipping the switch, I opened the front door and stepped outside into the cool, crisp air. The bright, full disk of the moon beamed down from above; stars bright pinpricks of light against a midnight backdrop. Silent. Peaceful. Alone. 

 _Snap!_  

Or not. 

I snapped the beam of my torch in the direction of the sound. The dim yellow light (I needed to buy new batteries for this thing) flashed against a pair of reflective circles in the shrubbery that took up most of my farm. 

 _Shit..._  

* * *

I don't know what drew me back to this place. We'd been told to stay away now that it was inhabited again; at least until she knew more about us. Maybe it was deviance; the thrill of doing something you're not supposed to; or habit; perhaps curiosity; or some sort of kindred spirit that I found in the new farmer. Or maybe it was something else. Either way, I found myself back at the territory that she now owned. 

For a while, I just sniffed around familiar spots such as the rabbit trail I liked to haunt, and the pond where I usually sat and stared at my silhouetted reflection in the water, contemplating life as the moon's image rippled beneath me. 

When I heard the door to the cabin open, I darted for the trees. If I got caught, she'd panic and tell Lewis, who would freak. Lewis wasn't all that great to be around when he was angry. 

The farmer came out carrying a flashlight. Had she heard me outside? No, that was impossible. She was human; their senses sucked compared to ours. There was no way she would have heard me. 

She just... stood on the porch for a while; staring up at the cloudless sky. I wondered what she saw in them. I was reminded of the view of the far-off city; enticing yet unreachable. For now, at least. 

We were supposed to tell her in a few weeks, when she'd settled in properly. At that thought, I scoffed internally. She was pretty damn settled now, why couldn't we tell her now? Sam had said she was pretty cool, so why was Lewis so antsy about telling her? 

Biting back a growl of frustration, I turned to leave. 

A twig snapped beneath my paw. Oops. 

The flashlight locked onto me. I froze beneath its glare, still gazing at her. Her features were blank, but there was a wide-eyed terror to her onyx eyes. 

I should leave. If I did that, then she'd think it was just another animal wandering through her territory. No one would have to know that I'd disobeyed the rules Lewis had set up. 

But if I didn't... 

Ignoring the screaming voices in my head telling me not to, I stepped out of the undergrowth, and into plain sight. 

She stared at me. I stared back. 

What was she thinking? 

* * *

A wolf stood before me. On two legs. 

Dark, lustrous, jet black fur with a violet sheen covered it head to toe, and it stood higher than me at a frightening seven and a half feet tall, gazing at me with dark purple eyes that seemed to glow with a primal instinct. A thick mane of fur covered its long head, falling to the side like a some sort of human hairstyle, bringing clarity to its sleek features. 

I had no idea what I was supposed to do in this situation. Did I run? Stay where I was? Scream? The wolf... didn't seem dangerous, but there was no telling with wild animals, especially ones that stood on two legs instead of four. 

I couldn't see any dark intent. It didn't look threatened or angry, just... curious. And magnificent in the light of the full moon. 

Wait... 

Holy shit... I was staring at a werewolf, wasn't I? 

I took a step back, my heart pounding and limbs trembling with terror. This was impossible; insane, even. Werewolves didn't exist; they were creatures of myth and fantasy who were stereotyped as bloodthirsty, rabid animals that killed without consequence. 

But the creature stood before me, staring into my face, said otherwise. Its eyes glinted in the glare of my torch, and its ears were perked forward, listening. 

"What are you?" I whispered, my hands shaking ever so slightly. 

A low grunt was my only answer. It understood? 

Still... it didn't stop me from feeling horribly overwhelmed, and rather dizzy with shock and fear. There was a tightness in my chest as the pounding of my heart became somewhat uncomfortable, and I seemed to stop breathing. There were shadows  creeping into the edges of my vision.

* * *

"You are a literal gargoyle?!" 

Lewis winced at the unexpected volume of my voice (I would later come to realise that I had acted an awful lot like Dad at that moment), his granite-colour wings furling in on themselves. It wasn't a kind-eyed, greying man who stood before me, but a dragon-like creature that was already grey, with curving horns sprouting from his forehead, a silvery mustache that looked like it had been carved into his features, and a four-foot-long tail with an arrowhead tip. 

"Indeed I am," he confirmed meekly, looking away ashamedly. 

"And you didn't think to tell me," I stated, my voice tired. Which I was. I was tired, sore and annoyed. After waking up in my bed to Sebastian as a _werewolf_ , I had grilled him for information on what was going on. He'd caved pretty quickly once I'd raised my voice, telling me about how the entire town was inhabited by disguised _monsters_. I then stormed over to town and slammed my fist against Lewis's front door, demanding entry and screaming about how I 'knew', and that there were to be 'no more secrets'. 

I almost fainted again when he opened the door. Was that going to become a regular thing? 

"We were going to wait a few more weeks," Lewis said, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Until you were settled. That way you wouldn't be too overwhelmed." 

My scowl softened at that, and I felt guilt tugging at my chest immediately. I was angry over nothing... 

"Oh..." 

"But it seems," Lewis continued, his brows furrowing as his gaze settled on Sebastian, who was skulking by the door, "that _someone_ thought the rules did not apply to them." 

Sebastian said nothing; only avoiding eye contact with the stony-faced (oh god, no! Puns!) mayor. Not wanting the young man to get in trouble, I tapped Lewis's shoulder to catch his attention. 

'I'm sorry for raising my voice,' I signed. 

"It's okay, Hannah," Lewis dismissed gently, his expression softening as he laid eyes on me. "I understand. You were upset; anyone would be with something as... monumental as this. But you must understand that we had the best intentions." 

I nodded, understanding where Lewis was coming from. 

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Lewis began, "I have to announce this to the townsfolk. Thank goodness; spending all day disguised was really wearing me down." 

Walking quickly, to match Lewis's suddenly very long strides, I followed him and Sebastian outside, then proceeded to watch in awe as the mayor proceeded to clamber up the walls of his house with the agility of a cat. Once he was on the roof, I hastily covered my ears as an ear-splitting roar sounded; the source being Lewis. Sweet lord... 

Less than half an hour later, almost everyone in town was gathered in the square, where Lewis was standing in front of the clinic with me at his side. A lot of them were muttering amongst themselves nervously, but quieted when the gargoyle gave a low rumble, signaling for attention. 

"It seems the cat is out of the bag," Lewis announced, his gravelly (stop it with the puns, goddammit) voice reaching everyone despite the lack of volume. "You're all free to take your pendants off; Miss Moonfell knows. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some paperwork to file. Oh, and Robin?" I noticed Sebastian's shoulders slump. Ouch... "Mind if you and your son come over, for a moment?" 

The moment the gathering was called off, I headed back to the farm, feeling a little overwhelmed by everything, and mindful of the fact that I hadn't yet watered my crops for the day. Whoops... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I can move onto the stuff I really want to do!
> 
> I may or may not rewrite this whole chapter further down the line, but for now, I want to have fun writing this, so please don't pressure me.
> 
> Hope you like what I've got so far :)


	6. Chapter 5 - Selkie and Merman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I guess things half right, I suppose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEEEEYY! I'm back! This is finally done!
> 
> Sorry for the wait, I had exams, and was also working on other stuff.
> 
> This chapter has an explanation for why some of the characters know sign language.
> 
> Also, this is a short one. Sorry.

I spent most of the morning at the farm, trying to come to terms with the fact that I was most likely the only human in Pelican Town. Maybe even the whole of Stardew Valley. It honestly made me feel very lonely once more. 

Then I snuck over to the beach once I was finished with the farm work; making a point of avoiding everyone. Rude, I know, but I honestly didn't know what would happen if I bumped into anyone. Thankfully, it seemed no one was out at the moment, so I reached my destination without having to interact with anyone. 

The beach was thankfully absent of any people, and I dug out a large, strong plastic bag out of my backpack, kicked off my socks and shoes, and started searching the beach for shells, as was my usual routine whenever I came here. Right now, I had no use for them besides cleaning the sand out of them and using them to decorate the house, but I hoped to be able to scrape up a little extra money in order to buy some cord and make necklaces or something of the like. I might even a glue gun and some blank picture frames. 

As I combed the beach in search of shells that I could take home, I realised I wasn't completely alone. 

A seal lounged on the shore; grey fur glistening in the midday sun and dark eyes closed. It looked peaceful as the waves tickled against its sleek, faintly scarred belly, and appeared to be completely okay with my presence as I scuttled about, picking up anything that looked pretty and uninhabited. It was no longer a new occurrence; the old bull (according to Elliott, that was what male seals were called) being an allegedly frequent visitor of the beach; but I still couldn't help but feel a buzz of excitement every time I laid eyes on him; basking in all his glory in the bright sun. 

Eventually, I couldn't find any more shells that caught my eye, and left my little collection by my bag so that I could walk over to the waves without anything hindering me. Keeping a respectful distance from the seal, I simply stood in the water, letting it wash over my feet and soak my ankles in cool bliss. I wasn't one for swimming these days, having more or less stopped visiting the local pool when I was fourteen due to the uncomfortable feeling of exposure that a swimsuit of any description left me with, but paddling barefoot in the shallows of the ocean gave me a peace of mind that I found hard to come by. Unlike most moments of quiet that I managed to get here in Stardew Valley, these ones managed to shut out all thought from my mind; including the mental reminder to breathe as my body went on autopilot. More often than not, the old seal would join me, bushy moustache of silver whiskers flicking about in the wind. 

For a while, the two of us just stood there, calmly ignoring each other as I sank into a cool emptiness, and he... thought about whatever seals thought about, I suppose. What do seals think about? Fish? Impressing a mate? The workings of the universe? 

At some point, he started lumbering towards me without my noticing. When I finally did, I realised that he was growing... taller... as he approached. Flippers split into fingers, grey hide gave way to tanned, weathered skin, and the whiskers were replaced by a bushy beard. A red shirt and grey pants materialised on his body as fluidly as the transformation occurred, and... oddly enough, I didn't feel at all freaked out by the spectacle. 

'I was expecting a merman,' I signed idiotically. 'Or a shark on legs.' 

I inwardly cringed when Willy barked out with laughter at my statement. 

"I suppose Selkies aren't all that well known in the city, eh?" He chuckled, grin showing off teeth that I now noticed were sharper than the average human's. "Too many horror movies." 

Not knowing what else to do, I shrugged, making him chuckle some more. 

"Weren't too far off, though. What were you expecting from Elliott?" 

'Merman, too?' I replied, before the supposedly neutral expression on my face collapsed into disbelief. "No..." 

Willy's grin widened as another rough chortle vibrated in his chest. "Lad o' the ocean; born an' bred." 

I shook my head in disbelief. Was he being serious? Had I _guessed right_? I'd only been joking when I'd compared Elliott to Ariel from 'The Little Mermaid'! 

"I ain't jokin' missy," Willy pressed. "Ask 'im yerself." 

Immediately, I felt the blood drain from my face, and whipped my head around in search of the writer. 

A lump of seaweed landed next to my feet with a wet _'fwap!'_ , making me yelp in surprise and jump away from it. Scowling, my eyes locked onto the uncharacteristically mischievous smirk of Elliott, who was currently lounging in the wake of the waves with seashells and pieces of coral decorating his hair. 

Also, he had a fish tail instead of legs. That... that might be useful to know. Scaly and glistening with rainbow colours in the light of the sun, it was a bright orange that stood out starkly against the pale sand of the beach, fan-like fins twitching ever so slightly. What looked like parallel gashes along the sides of his abdomen were in fact gills, and there was a thin layer of webbing between each of his fingers. 

'What was that for?' I signed angrily, scowling over at him as he lounged about looking smug. 

All Elliot did was grin and chuckle, an odd clicking sound that sounded like a dolphin. I just stared back at him, confused. 

"Elliot don't speak much English when he ain't disguised," Willy explained. "Actually, he doesn't speak _any_ , to be perfectly honest." 

"Oh." 

"Aye, it's why I taught him sign language. Easier than shifting back and forth." 

'I see.' 

"Heh. Plan on stayin' here long?" 

'Just another half an hour. Then I'm heading back to the farm.'

"Ah, I see. Would ye like me to teach ye to fish before ye leave?"


End file.
